Traditional Love
by NellietheMarvelous
Summary: Christmas fic as a gift. It's Castle and Beckett's 2nd Christmas together and things are a little different this time around. They have the loft to themselves and a few traditions to work on. Fluff.


**Disclaimer: Nope.  
**

**A/N: This is a present for one of my awesome twitter friends. Seriously, I love her. HOPE YOU LOVE IT! It's Christmas gooey feels. If you don't want to read it...then feel free to leave.  
**

Everything is different. _Everything. _And right now Beckett is okay with all of it. She's more than comfortable right now. She's warm, an emotional warmth that seeps through to her bones, settles deep into her soul and smooths over the jagged edges that reside there. It's a sweet flow of joy and love rushing through her veins as she sings quietly in the kitchen. Her knuckles kneading against the dough as she stares blankly at it. It's something she enjoys. This day is something she enjoys. In just two years of celebrating together, Castle has made her fall in love with Christmas all over again. He put the magic back into it. The way he does everything so over the top, the loft decorated lavishly by him, his mother, Alexis and even she helped a little. The mistletoe in their bedroom is definitely her doing. Not that he knows about it...yet.

And this - making cookies - yeah, this is her doing as well. Snickerdoodle cookies because she has a bit of a weakness for them and because she wants to start a new tradition with him. Year two of sharing Christmas and she's singing in his kitchen with flour on her cheek and her hair in a mess on top of her head because she's doing this with _just _him. She's got him all to herself for the night and she plans to take full advantage of that fact - starting with the idea of delicious warm, homemade cookies.

_"Oh, the weather outside is frightful," _She's always loved this song. And she loves to sing it, especially now since there's snow falling from the sky and wind whipping it around to make everything look hazy, covered in a blizzard of white.

She pauses in her lyrics, wonders if she should check on him to make sure he's doing okay. He said he's take a _quick _shower and be back before she could even mix the ingredients. Hmph. Yeah, she's not standing her with the dough already kneaded or anything. Five more minutes and then she's going to turn into search and rescue because there's no way he's taking more than a thirty minute shower. She grabs a rolling pin, and starts to flatten the dough, picking up right where she left off in the song.

She doesn't even care if she looks silly right now, in their kitchen, singing Christmas carols. She's feeling pretty happy, with the strings of lights flickering throughout the loft, the red, green, and silver explosion that's taken over is actually comforting. Like a blanket in the cold. A healing balm over the wound that still lingers in her chest because it's close to January. And she doesn't do so well in January - even if it isn't such a blow to the gut anymore, it still stings.

She still mopes, still gets snappy even when she doesn't mean to and she still likes to be alone sometimes. But not right now. Right now she's okay, she's good with this - being in their home and making an edible treat that Castle keeps saying is for Santa. Though she knows by 'Santa' he really means himself.

She's reaching the end of _'Let It Snow'_ and the end of her patience for waiting on him when a pair of arms snake around her waist, dancing low on her stomach. She leans back into him, lets her hand cover one of his - not even caring about the powdery substance that she's now rubbing over his thumb.  
A hot press of his mouth lands on her neck, silky and sharp as he nips at her skin and she lets her nails scrape over the back of his hand.

"I love it when you sing." She bites her lip, abandons the rolling pin for now and watches as her ring catches the light. She still can't believe that she said yes but this is where they are. They're making cookies on Christmas Eve in _their _loft.

"You plan on helping with these cookies or are you just here for distraction?"

"Are you going to keep singing?"

"Maybe." She will if he joins and she knows that he's more than aware of that. It's how he gets her to sing in the shower, with soap slick against their skin and water steaming.

He steps back, his hands shifting to her hips to steady her as he joins her at the counter. He's humming now, and it takes her a minute and then she's shaking her head, reaching for the star shaped cookie cutter. This ridiculous man. Of course he picks that song. But then he's covering her hand as she presses the metal into the dough, helping her and she decides to humor him. She opens her mouth and lets the lyrics flow.

_"I really can't stay,"_ He sidles up against her, fingers caressing hers as she lifts the cutter to reveal a perfect star.

_"Baby it's cold outside,"_ She presses into him, meets his eyes with a smile at the sheer cheesiness of all of this. But it's Christmas and it's magic. And she's marrying him. She sings the next line, barely containing a laugh as he grabs a Reindeer shaped cookie cutter to use as a microphone. Her giant kid.

"Castle," He shushes her, makes three reindeer cookies before continuing the song. Even putting a little hip wiggling into it this time and she doesn't stop herself from actually laughing. Tongue poking out between her teeth when he raises an eyebrow. This is what she's getting into. Although, honestly, she wouldn't have him any other way.

She abandons the ridiculous duet they've started, wraps her arms around his neck and pushes her mouth against his. He freezes for a second before he pulls her closer, body pressing into hers and spinning them around until the curve of her spine hits the counter. She lets him get carried away, lets her body respond to his touch, to the caress of his teeth and tongue.

A shiver runs through her when his stubble scrapes over her chin, and she bites at his lip when he chuckles. Tugging on it until he hisses and she releases him with a satisfied grin on her face.

His eyes are dark, hazy, she knows exactly what's on his mind and it has nothing to do with baking anymore. But she won't be so easily persuaded. She wants to finish. She wants to add sprinkles when they're done and share them on the couch while watching some pointless but adorable Christmas movie. Just one more taste though, before she buckles down. Makes him stay focused. One more brief kiss, soft and lazy and then it's back to business.

"Let's finish these cookies for _Santa_."

* * *

It's well after midnight when they're lying in bed - her sprig of mistletoe is still taped to the headboard and a plate of a few cookies as well several crumbs is resting on Castle's stomach. She isn't even going to complain about pesky little pieces of baked good in the sheets tonight because she's too boneless and sated. And maybe it's because she's munching on a cookie too. Sitting cross legged with the sheet covering her front as she bites into one, she realizes it would be pointless to complain about anything.

"These are delicious." He has his mouth full and it's kinda gross but she just nods her agreement, takes another bite. Because he's right. They're so good and the cinnamon really pops against her taste buds. She wonders what it tastes like from his. "We should bake cookies all the time."

"Don't get your hopes up."

"Just as well, it keeps the magic of it alive if it's something we only do for holidays." She knows it'll happen more often than just holidays but that's her surprise so she won't let him in on it.

"So, our second Christmas together and we started a new tradition. I'd say we're doing pretty good." Another year together instead of being apart and even though his mother and daughter had other plans, they're doing just fine on their own.

"You know there's another tradition I think we could work on."

"What's that?" In a flash, he's pulling her down, knocking the half eaten treat from her hand and nuzzling his face into her chest. Lips teasing at her scar, tongue tracing over it. A hot wet trail. Her blood sings, a sharp zing of lust burning into her muscles, making them come alive once again.

"I've always wanted to have you naked under my Christmas tree." And it's so blatantly crude - a testament to how many years he's wanted her - that she's tugging his hair, pulling him away from her and shaking her head. No way. Never going to happen.

"You're a pervert."

"You say that now..." He doesn't finish his sentence, doesn't need to because he's already dropping the plate of cookies to the floor and rolling to pin her to the mattress. Legs tangling with hers and a hand skimming along her ribcage. She won't give in. Won't. But she already is. Just the brush of his thumb to the underside of her breast and she's rising to meet his touch. "Just imagine the lights, tiny little gleaming specks to dance over skin,"

She shivers as his lips trace along her jaw, biting each word into her.

"No." It's firm, but so is he and she knows that he doesn't give up easily. Their relationship is proof of that. They both know before he ever seals their mouths in a heated battle of dominance that he'll have her under the tree before round three. And he does. Or maybe she has _him. _

**a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS IN JUNE GUYS. I made them bake cookies.  
**


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